6 Senses
by ride-a-keeper
Summary: **COMPLETE** Ron uses the 5 senses to describe Hermione, plus 1...for good measure. Rated M for Sexual Content
1. See

**Authors Notes: First I'd like to thank anyone that has come here because they've read my other stories! Thank you so much for the beautiful reviews. As always, they are always welcome. If you just started reading my stories for the first time - I hope you enjoy. Of course, it should go without saying that I do not own anything Jo Rowling has created. I only own these words. **

Setting: After Malfoy Manor, before the return to Hogwarts – Shell Cottage

Ron sees Hermione.

He sees her when he wants to and sometimes when he doesn't. Surprising isn't it…that there are times he doesn't want to see her? Often times, it pains him a little to see her because she isn't his. Maybe she'll never be. It bothers him when he sees her talk to Neville. It irks him to see her smile at Cormac McLaggen. He'll probably always remember the bashful look on her face at the Yule Ball with Victor Krum. That night, he wished he never had to see her again. But even if he wanted to, the vision of her would play through his mind perpetually – like an endless film roll.

He sees her when she sits across him during a game of Wizard Chess, biting her lip and playing with a stray curl. He sees the way the fireplace plays tricks on his mind, casting shadows on her chest – making him more curious than he usually is. He notices how her shirt drops a little when she leans forward to tell her piece to move. Her lips wet from her own mouth and Ron aches so badly. He want so badly for them to be wet because he did that to them. They're pink, like her cheeks when it's too warm.

Then there are times he sees things he doesn't want to. Her anger with him when he's done something wrong, they way she furrows her brow and her lips quiver. She clenches her fist and her knuckles go white. He doesn't know how to respond but he still wants to kiss her. When she's angry she looks so cute. He remembers the tears she cried for Buckbeak, the tears she cried in anger at him, the tears she cried in anguish for Dumbledore, but never any tears for herself (he admired that). He would have given anything in the world to never see her cry again, but admittedly…her skin was flushed, her lips were almost a violent shade of red, her eyes were swollen, her hair…disheveled as usual, but she probably never looked more beautiful

Ron curses at himself and at Harry and at Hermione and at the whole world when he sees her laugh with him. He sees her tongue when she laughs loud and he wants to shut her mouth. In his head, it belongs to him anyway. She holds her sides, another hand on her chest…just right over her breast. Damn those wizard robes. Right now, maybe even seeing her laugh with Harry would be better than not seeing her laugh at all. He wasn't that selfish, at least he hoped not.

Yesterday, Ron saw her leave the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her head, little curls on the back of her neck still exposed. He sees her neck and wonders why it has been hidden from him this whole time. He thinks about running his finger gently up her neck, would he see her shiver?

He sees her in a summer dress. He sees her in a shirt that rises up to flash the skin of her stomach. He wonders if it's soft. He'll probably never have the satisfaction of knowing that either. He sees her ankles when she's barefoot and her small little toes. Her feet are so small and lady like, quite like her. He sees the inside of her wrist and he looks away.

Tonight and the night before this, and surely the night before that…he sees these things in his mind as well, always more vivid and more to his liking. In his dreams, he sees himself doing something about it instead of gawking and fantasizing. He sees her bottom and he sees her spine; he sees her breasts and he sees everything between her thighs but in these fantasies, he's the only one that sees them. When he wakes up, he remembers that he probably never will.

Tomorrow, Ron sees Hermione's scar from Malfoy Manor again; he hates it. It's the only thing on her body that he'll ever see that he won't want to.


	2. Smell

**Chapter 2 – Smell**

Setting – Post Deathly Hallows, 2 weeks later

The scent of Hermione is overpowering. It nearly drives Ron out of his skull. He will never admit to a soul that the day they were leaving for Hogwarts, the summer of their fifth year…he took a blanket she often slept with and stuffed it in his trunk.

Often nights when they'd done some awkward bantering that was obviously their failed attempts at flirtation, though neither of them realized, he'd go to his room and angrily attempt sleep. He'd pull the blanket over his head though and almost instantly, his anger subsided. She smelled like spring, fresh parchment, ink, and…books. Though one would think that smells terrible, he loves it. She smells like the library, like Hogwarts, like home.

She gets too close to him sometimes, he gets a whiff of her hair and he is intoxicated…gasping for air. He wants to bury his head in the crook of her neck and take in her scent. He wants to be so close that he'll smell like her as well, that way he'll never forget and he won't have to search for her to feel like this.

Of course, there are events when he's alone in which he imagines what sex would smell like, sex with Hermione that is. What would her skin smell like right after she'd cum…he catches himself thinking about this even when she's next to him and he realizes that he's probably the most disgusting and violating person she knows. Considering she doesn't know what he's thinking though, he just looks at her or blocks out what she's saying. He doesn't even have to pretend to be distracted.

At dinner, Hermione drinks sweet tea. He thinks it's cute the way she wrinkles her nose when she drinks it. Ron sits next to her and sees the food in front of him. He's not really hungry for once in his life although Molly Weasley cooking creates quite a lovely aroma but it doesn't compare at all to the sweet breath Ron smells when Hermione whispers "goodnight" to him and kisses him on the cheek.


	3. Taste

**Chapter 3 – Taste**

Setting – Post DH, the weekend before Hermione goes back to school

In their fourth year, Ron shared a butterbeer with Hermione at the Quidditch World Cup. After she drank from his cup without asking, surprisingly enough for her, she handed it to him with a smile. He was to happy to care but that vanished quickly when he tried to find where her lips must have touched the cup…he couldn't taste her lips from it at all, it was a huge disappointment.

In the Room of Requirement, in the midst of a war, Hermione kissed Ron. He tries very hard to remember what she tastes like. Mint and there's some blood too. He doesn't want to remember it like this but he can't help but lips her lips very quickly before Harry gets upset with them. She doesn't open her mouth when they kiss and he's glad because if she'd done that then they'd probably be dead. He wouldn't have been able to leave the Room of Requirement. He'd need it to kiss her until oblivion.

This weekend was the worst weekend Ron had had in a very long time. Hermione kept on packing and every so often she'd sigh really loudly. Eventually she stopped and stepped into Ron's room. She sat on his bed and looked at him with these eyes that read "I'm sorry but you know I have to go back."

They hadn't kissed since that night at Hogwarts and it wasn't because either of them didn't want to, it was just hard to find the appropriate moment when funerals were being had and everyone was grieving. Ron though about how much things were going to change. He'd help George for sure, that wasn't a question. But selfishly, he hated to recognize that but...it was true, he just wanted Hermione and him to finally get it out in the open. He wanted her to say to him everything he wanted to say to her. She was always making the first moves, she was. So tonight, maybe he should take the initiative. He wasn't good with words so he figured he may as well not even use them.

He moved closer to her on the bed and hoped that maybe his eyes would talk for him as well: "I know you have to go, but I really don't want you to," he hoped they conveyed. Suddenly, Hermione lay back on his bed and looked at his ceiling. Ron licked his lips, surely the taste of his didn't taste as good as hers. Her chest was rising and falling and Ron was beginning to feel really nervous. He smelled her hair and saw her eyes begin to glisten.

"Don't cry." Ron spoke.

"I won't ask you to do it if you don't want to…" Hermione spoke, barely a whisper.

"What?" He lay next to her, making sure not to touch her. Things were still like_ this_, he supposed.

"Never mind, it's stupid…I can't believe I bought it up."

"Wait…Hermione, what do you think I don't want to do? How do you know I don't want to do it? Maybe I do." He turned toward her and realized she had already been looking at him. Her lips slightly parted. "Oh…"

"Forget it, I have to wake up early tomorrow or Ginny and I are going to miss the train-"

Ron pushed her back onto his bed before her entire body lifted from it. He moved closer and closer to her face until their noses were touching. She blinked quickly. "I want to." So he did. His lips brushed hers at first but with encouragement from Hermione's grip on the front of his shirt, he opened his mouth and finally, so did she. That's when he tasted Hermione, the wetness of her mouth and the tanginess of her tongue at the same time…a bit like tea. He felt such enthusiasm, he wanted to delve even deeper into her mouth but it really wasn't possible at that point because he was so attached to her mouth. She wasn't making any noise, he was nervous. She was kind of shaking though and it made him think of giving her time to breathe so he moved his mouth to the hollow of her neck and that tasted just as good, if not better. He smelled her, he saw her shiver, and now he tasted the slightly salty and soapy taste of her neck. He could devour her if she didn't stop him but alas, she did.

"Did you leave a mark?" She asked him, almost frightened.

"I didn't…I didn't do it that hard." Ron felt shy saying these words to her. One would think he's never kissed before. Well…he hadn't, not really. She held her lips tightly together.

"Well…if you're going to do it…just do it in a place where no one will see it." Ron looked at her confused, this must have been his imagination speaking, maybe he had fallen asleep while she was talking. But then Hermione sneezed and Ron realized his imagination couldn't have conjured up something that adorable. His heart raced when he put together what she was saying. She wanted him to leave a mark? Was this some kind of territorial thing for her…? If she insisted, Ron wouldn't mind although he'd prefer for everyone to see it so they'd know she was his (even if it wasn't official, Harry kept on saying it didn't need to be…but anyway, Ron figured a mark on her neck would be a great sign that she was his for good measure). On the other hand…a place where no one would see…

Hermione still lay there. Her breathing labored as Ron look down at her contemplatively. "Uh…erm, where?"

"Oh…uh….I"

"Never mind…" Ron moved so that he was over her and Hermione's eyes widened. He only did it so he could move down to where he planned (very suddenly) to do this. She was wearing a nightgown and it was thin, but not very thin. Ron could imagine what she'd look like under it but he'd rather see for himself. He placed his hands tentatively over her thighs and parted them slightly. Hermione didn't make a sound, again he was nervous. He moved the gown slowly up her legs and stopped when he reached her upper thigh. "How about…right there." He poked at a tender spot of skin on the inside of her thigh. Very bold of him, maybe it was the adrenaline and the fact that Hermione's reaction kind of gave him courage. Ron was silently thanking Merlin that he wasn't stuttering. He really _had_ grown up.

"That sounds…okay, I mean…yeah." She closed her eyes like she always did in preparation and he kissed the skin softly. It was probably the softest spot he'd kissed. He licked it and she shuddered, her hands moving, gripping the sheets next to her. Ron decided to make this quick before someone ruined their fun. So he tasted the inside of her thigh and tried to make a mental picture of being this close to the place between this one and the other thigh. He figured he was sucking too hard when she gasped a bit again and jerked her thigh a bit so he stopped and kissed the spot lightly, rubbing away his saliva with his thumb. He moved her gown down her legs and lay back next to her silently.

"You skin tastes wonderful." Ron said softly. He didn't want to do anything else tonight…then how would he cope when she left tomorrow?

"I'm going to stay here for tonight. Move over." Ron didn't push her away. She lay next to him very quietly and barely touching him but before she fell asleep, she reached for him and leaned over him a bit. Not knowing exactly where this was going, he let her lead the situation. She kissed lips and forehead and then brought up his wrist and kissed that too, her tongue slightly touching him on that last kiss.

"Yours tastes better," and she went to sleep.


	4. Touch

**Chapter 4 – Touch**

Setting – Post DH, Hermione's Christmas Break during her 7th year at Hogwarts

It's the best thing in the world, Hermione's skin is. He feels it brush against his when she reaches over for a quill during their third year. They're supposed to be fighting but to hell with it…he smiles to himself when she retracts her hand and she doesn't notice, thank Merlin.

They danced at Bill and Fleur's wedding and for the first time, Ron held her hand and they weren't running from Death Eaters in the Ministry of Magic or she wasn't helping him up while escaping from the Shrieking Shack. He feels her finger tips touch his neck and playfully touch the ends of his hair. Her hand feels so small and it is, so incredibly small.

He remembers a time when he touched Hermione's hair accidentally. It brushed against his face during Potions class once. It was soft, almost softer than her skin. But the moment didn't last long.

Now things were different. His fingers were knotted tightly in her hair as she touched him, they were only kissing…_only_. Her hands ran down his arms and his hands slid from her hair to her cheek to her clavicles. He smiled when he remembered this but now he got to touch her more honestly than before.

Tonight things were getting out of control. If Hermione wanted Ron to stop she should have said something a long time ago. Somehow, by the graces of some unknown force…he was touching the skin of her stomach…inching up slowly. Her breath hitched and she shut her eyes.

His fingers danced across her skin, tiny small hairs making her skin feel like feathers. He reached her breasts and gasped when he realized she's not wearing a bra.

"Why?" He groans.

"Because I wanted you…to touch them." She sighs.

Ron swallows hard and raises the shirt above her head. His lips run over her lips. Hermione's lips have to be the single most incredible thing that the world has created. Sometimes they're slightly chapped but most of the time, they are soft because they've been kissing so often. They meet in his room around midnight, after everyone has gone to sleep. It's been a long time since they were alone. It's winter break for Hogwarts and Hermione and Ron are getting reacquainted. After realizing they might die together, they decided it might be best to just do things they want and live together, theoretically of course.

Her nipples feel hard under his fingertips. He knows they're a bit calloused but she arches her back a bit to his touch. He wants to kiss them so very badly but he can't get over touching them. Eventually he lets his mouth do that for him. He slips his fingers dangerously under her skirt and they reach the elastic of her underwear and soon he feels it, he actually touches her _there. _It's odd at first because it's not as soft but it's still wonderful because he feels her center and in his mind, that's his now.

"Fuck." He whispers.

"Ron…" She pants.

He's touching the inside of her and that alone sends him to another stratosphere. Is it possible that the inside of her body feels just as good as the outside? He won't know for now because before he realizes it, she's clenching around his fingers and he's a little bit scared about what's happening. Her breath starts increasing and he's kissing her so hard, he's sure he must be hurting her a little bit but he can't stop because her fingernails are digging into his shoulder and he feels a challenge coming on. When she stops moving against his hand and her body becomes rigid, she breaks from their kiss and Ron gets a little daring. He takes his fingers and slides them into her mouth.

He has absolutely no idea how he decided that was an okay idea or why she responded so nicely. She closes her eyes and for the first time (there were a lot of firsts tonight, in all honesty) he feels her tongue with his middle and index finger. She sucks on them so softly and coyly and he imagines her doing that thing with her tongue on other part of his body but he tries to shoo it away with his mind and take in this moment, the tip of her tongue and the pressure it's creating on the fingers in his mouth.

His other hand navigates the contours of his body that are still virgin to his touch, like the curve directly under her bottom and the skin behind her knee. Her hands rested on his shoulder and sometimes he wished she would touch him. All in due time, he reminds himself, hopefully. Eventually he replaces his fingers with his mouth and he thinks about how she must taste..._there._ One day he'll find out.

For now, she gets up after they kiss for thirty more minutes and for some reason she is still shy around him. Admittedly, he feels a little ashamed at his behavior but she let him do it, almost pleaded, and to him that was enough. She pulls her shirt down and fixes her skirt but before she is able to go back to her shared room with Ginny…Ron touches her one more time and that's to fix the hair that's plastered to her damp cheeks and forehead. She smiles bashfully and leaves without a word.


	5. Hear

**Chapter 5 – Hear**

Setting – Post DH, Hermione's summer after her last year at Hogwarts

When she laughs, Ron thinks that if he could hear her laughter every moment of his life…he wouldn't really need anything else. After the war, there's not much to laugh about. He works with George at WWW's and he knows Hermione's coming home today. Time inches by incredibly slow but he can't leave work early. George works extra slow now and he wouldn't imagine leaving him here.

When Ron gets off work, he nearly apparates right onto the platform to wait for her. He remembers the first time he ever heard her voice on the Hogwarts express. There were so many times that he hoped that she'd shut up in their youth – especially the times when all she did was complain about him in her annoying voice. Complain about how he was incompetent or complain about how much he complained. It was always something with Hermione.

At the same times, when they got into really bad rows and she ignored him for weeks and he didn't hear her voice, he'd give just about anything (though he really didn't have much) just to hear her voice again, even if he was to call him a prat.

And then there was the most horrible thing he's ever heard – her screams of terror and pain that night at Malfoy Manor when they nearly lost her. Ron tried very hard to block that memory from his head but sometimes the nightmare returns to him and he remembers screaming for her in the cellar, relying on her voice and cries to assure himself that she was still alive. Hermione, strong and dependent…brave Hermione, was yelling and crying for help and he couldn't do a thing for her. What good was he?

Right now, Hermione was running to him with that smile on her face that made Ron believe that he was in a dream for the majority of his life; that smile that read "Yes, I'm happy to see you. Of course, I want to hug you. You're important and you're important to me. I've missed you so much. I love you." It could possibly mean none of that at all, but right now as Hermione whispered in his ear "you're here," Ron believed that maybe her smile meant all of it and more.

The next week, Hermione takes Ron to visit her parents. They're very liberal, her parents. Ron supposes that it would be likely considering that they let her stay at his house nearly every vacation and go to a private wizarding school that they'd never be able to go to. Let's not forget that they trusted her despite the fact that she obliviated their memories at one point. The Grangers knew that their daughter made the best judgment calls, or if not the best…at least the most kind-hearted.

Ron's theory on Hermione's parents exuding such liberal behavior was further proven when they allowed them to stay in one room.

"'Mione…don't you think that's a bit odd?" Ron asked as he began to pull a blanket from a chest on the edge of the bed and lay it on the floor. "I mean…we're not…"

"We're not what?" Hermione picked up the blanket from the floor and placed it on the bed. "They know we're together Ron. Everyone knows."

"Right…" Ron said believing her. But he stood in front of the bed. He questioned himself. They'd kissed and he even…_touched _her once before. But they'd been away from each other for a long time. What if Hermione changed her mind and she wanted to see someone else now? He didn't want to go around flaunting their relationship and then have Hermione break it off. She wasn't showing any signs of that but then again, when was Ron any good at reading Hermione's signs? Maybe she wanted her parents to think everything was fine so that they wouldn't worry about her mental stability. Besides, they didn't know the extent of the war…all they knew was that Voldemort was dead, as was Fred and a couple of friends. They didn't now Hermione was nearly tortured to death. If they knew all that…who says they'd let her return to the wizarding world? They probably wouldn't have a say in the matter because Hermione would do whatever she pleased, but Ron was sure she'd like to have their support. Ron knew he was over-analyzing again but whenever he saw Hermione, especially now in a thin cotton shirt and shorts, sitting on the bed and looking at him like he was the only person in the world, he couldn't imagine how he ended up being so lucky.

"You sound like you don't want people to know." She pulled the blanket over herself and bit her lip. _Please, don't cry._

"No, no. I'm just surprised that _you _want people to know, even your parents. I mean, wouldn't they want us to be in different rooms."

"Well, yes. But they don't necessarily have to know _everything _about us. They don't really know I'm here." She smiled and Ron sat down on the bed next to her. He didn't look at her, instead he thought of how rebellious Hermione randomly was at times and he shook his head.

"You're terrible. This is so bad…"

"Ron, relax. Anyway…why wouldn't I want people to know?" Ron shrugged and suddenly Hermione was moving in front of him and she sat on his lap. It was very innocent and Ron was too shocked to process what was happening. Hermione placed her fingertips on his eyebrows and Ron closed his eyes. She ran her fingers over his eyelids, down his cheeks, across his lips. He could smell her fresh breath, feel her hands tremble a bit, he opened his eyes and saw her face and saw that she was on the verge of tears. He kissed them before they fell and tasted the saltiness of Hermione's emotions.

"Ron, do you know…" She stopped and held her breath. She was nervous, Ron could tell immediately. It was an expression that only he and Harry really knew.

"What?"

"Of course, I want people to know. I'm so proud to be your girlfriend." He smiled at the word. She looked down, embarrassed but Ron didn't let himself get discouraged. He lifted her chin up, urging her to finish. "I love you. I've loved you for so long. I'll always want people to know that but most importantly, I want _you _to know that."

Ron couldn't breathe. Hermione loved him. She honestly, loved him. He couldn't respond. He grasped for her and hugged her so tightly she might have crumbled. His fingers pressed tightly into her shirt and his face was buried in her neck. He heard himself respond "I love you Hermione, I love you." He hoped that it wasn't in his head and that she heard him and understood, understood that she was the only person that could make him feel that worthless but that important, the only person that could ever hold his heart, the only person he could ever make love to, or _really _kiss. She was the only person he'd ever cry over or smile over. As he held her in his arms, he whispered over and over again "I love you so, so much."

Hermione ended up pinned under him. In the fervor of their confessions, their kissing had reached a level of intensity that was completely new to them, each hoping to prove to the other that they loved one another an equal amount. Grasping at each other, Ron heard the ruffling of the bed sheets and their clothes as they somehow ended up on the floor and then Hermione's soft moaning every time they broke apart. She wrapped her legs around his waist and suddenly Ron was very aware of their position. Her shirt was pushed up and his hands were on her waist, hers wrapped in his hair.

"Hermione…we…" Ron pulled her shirt down.

"Okay. Not tonight." She nodded but she looked displeased and embarrassed.

"I want to…I really want to. Just not here. In this room. Where you grew up. That's just…wrong"

"I did more growing up at your house, anyway."

"Well, you had new experiences there…" Ron smiled.

Hermione nudged Ron in the ribs and he lay down next to her. They held hands until they fell asleep. In the middle of the night, Hermione woke up and shared the blanket with Ron and pulled him closer to her. "I love you more," she whispered in his ear.

Somewhere in Ron's dream, he heard her.


	6. Love

**a/n: dedicated to alex, thanks for motivating me to finish! thanks for all the reviews and favorites! 3**

**Chapter 6 – Love**

Setting – Post DH, The weekend Hermione and Ron get a flat together

Ron loves when Hermione played with his hair that one time in sixth year. He was so sick that he barely remembers a word she said to him. He was sure it was something about how she was sorry for being mean to him but perhaps that's what he wished she was saying. She ran her fingers through his hair and scratched his scalp.

Ron loves when Hermione shows off her intelligence. He really shouldn't be surprised anymore but she's so brilliant that it blows him away. She has so much that he doesn't have. He loves when she gets frustrated and she puts her hair up. He loves how she furrows her brows and tries to stay calm.

Ron loves how much his family loves Hermione and how much she loves them. He loves that a spoon with her face was added to the clock in their living room. She was a part of the family now and they weren't even married…yet.

Ron especially loves when Hermione shows she loves him like when she's jealous over Fleur, when she visited him during what were supposed to be Hogsmeade visits, the way she looks at him at dinner, the small traces she makes on his hand when they're in front of their friends, and then the way she hugs him. She hugs him and it's as if she's conveying that she loves him the most.

Tonight, in _their_ room…in _their bed_, Ron loved Hermione. He knew that it would be tonight because she grabbed at him with the determination that spoke volumes. He kissed her in places that light didn't show and promised in whispers that he wouldn't ever let her go. She wisped her fingers over the scars on his arms from fifth year and made him shiver even though his skin felt increasingly hot. Her hips kept rising and meeting his and he knew that unless she didn't want to go all the way, he wouldn't be able to hold himself back.

Then he remembered that he didn't need to. Their whole childhood, they had spent their time fighting alongside Harry. Now that it was over, they were adults. They had more responsibilities and scars than most adults but right now was a time to rejoice in the fact that they were both alive and that they loved each other. She smiled up at him shyly and he couldn't process what to say or do because before he knew it himself she was taking off her clothes underneath him. She touched him and made him go nearly insane but even though he wanted to close his eyes and feel her fingers around him, he looked at her and imprinted the memory of her face in his mind; the sweat on her upper brow, the naked chest in front of him, pressing against his, her swollen pink lips, and her frazzled bushy hair.

"You're so beautiful."

"_You're beautiful._" She whispered back as she took off his shirt. She traced his freckles and kissed them lightly. Things were happening so quickly, Ron was worried she'd regret everything but as the thought entered his head, Hermione moaned his name again or kissed his shoulder. "Ron…please."

When he eventually entered her, Ron looked straight into her eyes and told her straightforwardly: "There's no one else that I love more than you." Hermione whimpered and pulled him closer to her. Ron was scared to move faster but he adored the way she felt around him, he relished in the fact that she was moaning his name and no one else's, he worshipped her skin. His fingers claimed the skin on her stomach, her breasts, the back of her neck and he pushed further into her, hoping to reach a point inside of her that only he could know.

When she came and choked his name, clenching around him and her body going limp Ron's senses were aflame and he could smell the sex, see her beautiful face, touch her sticky skin, taste her sweet lips, hear her fast breathing and he could love her.

He'd love her more than anyone and anything he'd ever know.


End file.
